I Believe In You
by YummySushiToo
Summary: In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again. Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.
1. Prologue

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:  **Still not mine.  Stop asking.  Don't make me go all capslocky on you**.**

**Author's Note:  **Because the nice girls at the L&L Cookie Jar were kind enough to read, review, and encourage, I thought I'd share the lurrve.

Prologue 

I believe in you 

I'll give up everything just to find you_ – Evanescence_

****

_Dark Mark Seen Over Malfoy Manor___ By Jacob Sherman, Daily Prophet Staff Writer 

Surprised Aurors entered the home of suspected Death Eater Lucius Malfoy yesterday evening after residents of the nearby Muggle village began reporting to their authorities strange noises and lights coming from the large mansion on the hill.  The imposing iron gates stood wide open, as did the front door of the Malfoy home.  Upon a thorough search, Aurors found the deceased forms of Lucius Malfoy, 52, and his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, 46.

"It was clear they had been gone for some time," stated Auror Captain Fletcher Martin.  "Snow had blown through the open front door, and the bodies were quite cold."

Ministry tests concluded that the infamous Killing Curse was used on the Malfoys, and the wand of Lucius Malfoy himself performed the curses.

"As far as we're concerned, this is an open-and-shut case.  Malfoy killed his wife, then turned his wand on himself," said Captain Martin.

However, nothing is known of the whereabouts of the Malfoys' son, Draco, aged 20.  Family friends were reluctant to comment, but they did inform this reporter that he had been residing at home at the time of the incident.

"He hadn't been in Lucius' good graces lately," remarked Mrs. Danae Parkinson, a close family friend.  "But, I don't think that Lucius would have killed his own son."

Aurors did follow tracks in the snow that led away from the Manor, but nothing was conclusive.

"Poor Draco's probably in shock," added Mrs. Parkinson.

The Ministry's Division of Crime would like to speak with young Mr. Malfoy about the incident.  If any _Daily Prophet_ readers have any information regarding his location…

Several things happened simultaneously.  Toast clattered to a plate as the hand that had previously been holding the toast flew up to cover a strangled gasp.  Eyes widened, and tears spilled down cheeks.  A heart began to race, and a face turned white.  Finally a thought sprang to Hermione Granger's shocked mind: _Oh, Draco…_


	2. Chapter One

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:**  Is this really necessary?  You know I'm not JKR, right?

Chapter One 

Three months had passed since Hermione had read that _Daily Prophet_ article.  Three months of worry about Draco Malfoy, a boy she hadn't even seen since graduation from Hogwarts.  She had had to worry in secret, as well.  No one would have understood the depth of her concern for Draco.  Especially Harry and Ron.

Shortly after her reaction to the article, the two boys had Apparated into her kitchen as they did every morning.  Neither noticed Hermione's upset as they moved around, gathering tea and breakfast foods.  It was only after Ron plopped into the chair directly across from Hermione that she registered their arrival.

Harry picked up the paper and tapped the headline.  "Yeah.  Did you see this, Hermione?"  He snorted.  "_Suspected_ Death Eater.  Yeah.  And _I'm _a _suspected _wizard."

Ron laughed, and added, "It's about time ol' Lucius did away with himself.  I say, good riddance to bad rubbish."

"Hear, hear," said Harry, and saluted Ron with his teacup.

Hermione snapped.  Whether it was the shock and upset finally registering, or the fact that _once again,_ Ron and Harry were there uninvited, she didn't know, nor did she care.

"How _dare_ you?" she hissed, effectively silencing the boys' laughter.  "May I remind you that _people are dead_?  Never mind that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy might not have been the most shining examples of human kindness.  They are dead, and that is a shame.  _Especially_ because we all went to school with their son, who is now _missing._  Have you no decency?  Don't you care?"

Hermione looked at each of them, and as they dropped their gazes, she sighed.  "Of course not.  Why should you?  Draco was nothing to you but an annoyance.  Never mind that he tried to make amends in Seventh Year."  She stood, holding up her hand for silence, as Harry tried to speak.  "But we conveniently forget about _that_, don't we?" she asked sarcastically.

The boys shared a look.  "But, we were only making a joke, Hermione," Harry protested feebly.

"That is exactly my point!"  She sighed, frustrated.  "And before you say _anything_, that was not 'gallows humor.'  I know what that is.  You were being _cruel._  There is no other way to describe it."

Hermione walked to her door and opened it.  "I think you should go.  I really don't feel like seeing either one of you."  She did not look them in the eye as they walked past her into the hall.  "Good day."

"But, Hermione –"

"I said, good day!" she snapped, and slammed the door.

She leaned against the closed door, and then slid to the floor.  Burying her head in her arms, she began to cry.  Loud, harsh sobs wracked her body.  Crookshanks padded over to her and sat down next to his girl.  Only he knew that Hermione whimpered, "Draco.  Oh, Draco," occasionally, and he would never tell.

Hermione looked back on that day as one of the worst in her life.  Not only did she receive a terrible shock in the morning paper, but she managed to shriek at her two best friends and kick them out of her flat.  All before eight o'clock, no less.

Now that some time had gone by, things were pretty much back to normal.  Ron and Harry still visited, but they notified her first.  They still joked around with her, but the jokes never contained the words _Malfoy, Draco, suicide, _or _missing,_ of which she was very glad.

Yes, the boys seemed to be more considerate of her lately, with a few exceptions.  Ron still managed to empty her cupboards of anything edible every time he was there, and Harry still slipped some of his and Ron's dirty clothes into her laundry basket.  But, she figured, it could be worse.  How, exactly, she had no idea, but still.

One night, Hermione decided that she would bake Harry and Ron a cake, just to really smooth things over.  She had all of the ingredients but one: eggs.  _Dammit,_ she thought, _of all the times to get the urge to bake, I had to pick now.  When it's cold.  And I have to walk to the store._  Too late, she had realized that her car had broken down some time ago, and she didn't have the money to fix it.  It was either: fix the car, or eat.

Ah, the joys of being a Mediwitch student.

It was a mile to the store from her flat, so she bundled up, and set out.  At least, the walk would give her time to think.


	3. Chapter Two

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:**  YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:**  In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:**  Now let's be reasonable.  Do you really think JKR lives in Ohio?  No?  I thought not.

Chapter Two 

****

During her final year at Hogwarts, Hermione began noticing Draco Malfoy.  She noticed the way he twirled his quill while writing notes in class.  She noticed the way he would wrinkle his nose when the students were served anything containing onions at mealtimes.  She noticed his hands, how long and elegant they were.  She noticed how sad his gray eyes had become; how mellow, quiet, and introspective he was.  In the last Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match, he caught the Snitch before Harry.  She noticed he did not mock the Gryffindors, but merely shook Harry's hand, and said, "Good game."  She noticed his low voice had become softer, and he only spoke when absolutely necessary.

She noticed that she began to develop a crush on him.

Of course, this could never, _ever _come to light.  True, Harry and Ron, who barely noticed _anything,_ remarked on Draco's changes, but they wouldn't understand at all.

So, she kept it to herself, and did a damn fine job of it, too.

Until the Leaving Ball, that was.

She readied herself with Ginny's help, all the while grumbling about Hogwarts and its bloody traditions.

"But I thought you loved all of Hogwarts' traditions, Hermione," Ginny commented.

Hermione privately thought that Ginny was too observant for her own damn good.  "Well, not _this_ one," she said through gritted teeth.

"What one?"  Ginny was also too dense for her own damn good.

"The one where the Head Boy and Girl share a dance.  It's ridiculous and outdated."  _And I'll probably blush so much that I give my secret away._

"Oh.  Well, it's only one dance.  You can handle it, Hermione.  And just think: you get to dance with Draco Malfoy, the second hottest guy in school," Ginny said brightly.

"Second hottest?"

"Next to Harry, of course," replied Ginny, automatically.

"Mmm."  What would Ginny do if she knew that _yes,_ Harry was in love with a Weasley, but it was _Ron_ and not her?  Hermione barely suppressed a smile.

At the dance, Hermione looked around, determined to find Draco and get the dance over with.  Finally, she saw him, and almost sat down hard on the floor.  She always hesitated to use the word, as it seemed unfit, but Draco looked _beautiful._  His charcoal gray dress robes were immaculate, his short hair was artfully mussed, and he looked perfect, standing nonchalantly against the far wall.

_Just relax and don't forget to breathe,_ she coached herself.

Hermione made her way over to Draco, and as she approached, the most amazing thing happened.  He smiled.  A real, genuine smile, directed at _her_!  Hermione almost, but not quite, stumbled on her low heels.

"Hello, Hermione," he greeted her.  "You look stunning."  Again with the smile.

Cue more almost-stumbling.  "Thanks," she half-whispered.  She cleared her throat.  "Well, Draco, we should get this over with.  The dance, I mean," she said briskly.

A look of hurt passed briefly over his face.  "As you wish, Hermione."

Draco led her out onto the dance floor.  Gently, he pulled her into his arms, and they began dancing.  He wouldn't look at her, though.

_As clever as you are, Hermione, _she berated herself, _one would think you'd have better social skills._

"Look, I'm sorry.  I just thought the quicker we did this, the quicker you could get back to your date," Hermione said softly.

Draco's eyes slid to hers.  "I see.  Well, if you hadn't noticed, I don't have a date."

"Why?" Hermione asked, before she could stop herself.

"Because no one wanted to attend with me," he said, sadly, and looked away again.

Hermione's foot-in-mouth disease once again reared its ugly head.  "I would have come with you tonight."  Her eyes widened and she blushed as she realized what she had just said.

But now it was too late.  He would know.

And Hermione would have to toss herself off of the Astronomy Tower in her humiliation.

"Do you know, there was a time when I would have teased you for that."  He gave her a wry grin.  "But now, I only want to know why."  Draco gazed at her expectantly.

Hermione thought of all the reasons she could give him: his changed personality, his intelligence, his strength of character.  But instead she said, "Everyone always thinks the worst of you.  That you'll follow in your father's footsteps.  But you are your own person, Draco, and that won't ever happen."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I believe in you."


	4. Chapter Three

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:  **Did you know that there are only 800,000 doctors in the US, and 1.2 million lawyers in California alone?  If I said that Harry Potter was actually mine, I really don't think that the odds would be on my side.

Chapter Three 

****

****

****

And oh, how she did believe in Draco Malfoy.  Even before he had changed, before she developed a crush on him, she believed in him.  His strength of character and his intelligence, the very things she admired most about him, made it so.

Now, years later, now that he was missing, she still believed in him.  She was certain that it was his intelligence and strength of character that was keeping him alive, wherever he was.

When Hermione was a little girl, she, like most other little girls, had secret wishes.  She would wish that she would get a pony for Christmas, or that she would grow up to be tall, like her Mum.  And even now, she had secret wishes.  Her most fervent desire was to see Draco Malfoy alive, safe, and unharmed.  She didn't even care if it was only for a moment or two.  Just enough so that her doubts and fears would be laid to rest.

Walking back from the corner market, paper sack containing a dozen eggs in her hand, Hermione once again thought of her secret wish.  _Please,_ she prayed to whoever would listen, _just let him be safe.  Please let me see him safe and sound._

Hermione came upon an alleyway and was almost past it when she heard shuffling noises and a small whimper.  She stopped, and turned down the alley, thinking she could give the poor stray dog or cat a bath and a warm place to stay.  As she got closer, the shuffling shape turned out to be a person.  Well, she'd still help him or her, just not in her flat.

The person in the shadows whimpered again, and Hermione took pity.  "Don't be frightened.  I'm a friend.  I won't hurt you," she soothed.

When the figure scooted into the weak light thrown by the streetlamp outside of the alley, Hermione dropped the paper sack in shock, eggs forgotten.  "Draco!"

There he was.  The person she wanted to see most in the world was right there, in front of her.  He shivered violently, and she could see that he was wearing only blue jeans, a light cotton shirt, and sneakers.  His hair was long, tangled, and greasy, and he hadn't shaved in what appeared to be months.  _Three_ months, to be exact.  He shivered again, and began to mumble.  "No, Lucius… Mum… run away…."

Hermione began to cry, though she wasn't aware of it.  She knelt, and draped her coat around his shoulders.  Draco flinched at her touch.  "Draco.  It's Hermione, see?  I won't hurt you – I'm your friend."  He relaxed, but didn't look at her.

"You've got to come home with me.  Please, Draco.  You'll be safe and warm there, I promise."  Hermione stood, and tugged on his hand.  "Please, Draco?"

After much coaxing, Draco finally stood, and allowed Hermione to lead him out of the alleyway.  It was a slow trip back to Hermione's flat.  Draco shuffled, his head down, and Hermione cast worried glances at him every five steps.

Once they arrived at her flat, Hermione decided the best thing for him would be a shower.  She led Draco into her bathroom and set out towels and a washcloth.  "Go ahead and take a shower, Draco.  I'll put some clean clothes outside the door for you, okay?"  He didn't answer, but she figured he understood.  She left and closed the door behind her.

Hermione paced around her flat, fretting about what she should do.  It was clear that he was in shock from his parents' deaths.  He also had been outdoors most, if not all of the time, so he was suffering from the cold, as well.  He was probably also tired and hungry.  _Well, he will have to stay with me, _she reasoned.  _I found him, and now he's my responsibility.  Anyone else would treat him badly._

So, she made up the bed in her spare bedroom, put the kettle on, and turned up the heat in her flat.  She set to work making sandwiches, but stopped when she noticed something.  The water wasn't running, nor had it run since she left him in the bathroom.

Hermione walked over to the bathroom door and hesitated.  To knock, or not to knock: that was the question.  She put her ear to the door and listened.  Nothing.  She knocked softly, then a bit louder.  "Draco?"  No response.  "Draco?  Are you all right in there?"  Still no response.  She felt a twinge of fear.  Maybe he had passed out.  Maybe he hit his head.  Maybe he was bleeding to death.  Maybe – 

_Maybe you should just open the damn door already,_ she told herself.

Cautiously, Hermione opened the door.  There stood Draco, exactly where she had left him, staring blankly at the rubber ducky picture that hung above the toilet.  Touching his arm, she asked, "Do you need help?"  He didn't move or speak, so she said, "Stay here.  I'll be right back."

Hermione hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a pitcher.  Then, she gathered up the clean sweats, socks, and boxers she had laid out.  She hoped Ron wouldn't mind.  She went back into the bathroom and closed the door, then began to run a bath.

_Bath bubbles, bath bubbles, where are you_?  But then Hermione remembered.  _Damn Harry and Ron's flat for not having a bathtub, and damn Harry and his penchant for bubble baths.  Oh, well.  Think of Draco as, um, another patient.  Yes!  Don't think about how you fantasized about him at Hogwarts.  Don't you dare!_

Mental lecture finished, Hermione turned to Draco, rolled up her sleeves, and tried very hard not to blush.  "Let's get you undressed, shall we?"  


	5. Chapter Four

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:  **Not mine, kids.  I ain't playin'.

Chapter Four 

With a minimum of struggling, but much blushing and averting of eyes, Hermione managed to strip Draco and get him into the steaming bathwater.  "Now.  Do you think you can wash yourself?" she asked.

No answer.

Hermione mentally whined, _Why me?_ and knelt next to the bathtub.  "We'll do this in stages," she explained, desperately needing to hear someone, _anyone, _talking.  "First we'll wash you, then your hair."

Gently, Hermione scrubbed three months worth of Merlin-knew-what off Draco.  Not once did he move of his own accord, and he never made a sound.  She washed his hair four times with her lavender vanilla shampoo, eventually getting it clean to her satisfaction.  "We don't want you having Professor Snape hair, do we?" she joked lamely.

Silence.

Finally, she shaved his face.  He was beginning to look like his old self again, save for the haunted look in his eyes.

"All right, stand up.  You've soaked in your own filth long enough," she said conversationally.  "You know, that's the thing I can't stand about baths.  I mean, do we really get clean, sitting in dirty water?  Nope.  Give me a nice clean shower any day."

Draco said nothing, which made Hermione wonder why she made any effort.  Still, she was probably the only human contact he'd had in months.  So something, even if it was her dumb theory about baths, was better than nothing.

Hermione helped Draco to stand on the bathmat, and she dried him off.  Again, much blushing and averting of eyes.  She felt even more mortified as she knelt in front of him in order to dry his legs.  Right there, right at _bloody eye level_, was his – er – _naughty bits._  Her eyes would.  Not.  Look.  Away.

So.  You're going to be clinical about this, hmm?  Treat him like any other patient?  Do you stare at some random patient's meat-and-two-veg?

_Oh, you just shut your trap,_ she told herself, standing up quickly. 

Patiently, she got Draco dressed, then combed his hair, and even helped him brush his teeth.  "There," she began, as she stood in front of the mirror beside him, "now don't you feel better?  Squeaky clean!"  Hermione rubbed his shoulder and made an _eek-eek_! sound, like her Dad used to do when he would give her a bath.

Not a word.

Hermione's smile faltered, and she sighed and turned away.  "I'll give you a haircut tomorrow, Draco.  For now, why don't you eat something and go to sleep?"

She had to practically _bribe_ Draco to eat, but he gave in and ate half a sandwich and drank a cup of tea.  After, she led him to the spare bedroom.

"This is your room, all right?  Nice warm bed, clean and comfy.  See?"  Hermione sat on the bed and gave an experimental bounce.  "You'll love it, I promise."  She turned down the covers, and he crawled into the bed.

"My room is right down the hall," she told him as she covered him up.  "I'll leave your door open a bit.  If you need anything, just call."  Hermione turned out the light and stepped toward the door.  "I'm so glad I found you, Draco.  I'm so glad you're safe and sound."

On a whim, she turned to look at him.  Then before she could think twice, she bent and kissed him on the forehead.  "I believe in you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered, then left the room.

Hermione walked out into her kitchen and stood there, eyes wide.  Suddenly, she grabbed a towel and ran to the bathroom.  She turned on the tap and sat on the floor.  Her breath hitched, and she began to cry.  She couldn't even catch her breath.

Draco, who had always been so proud, so in control, was now so very helpless.  His eyes had been so haunted and sad.  Pain and anguish had radiated off him in waves.  If Hermione cried forever, she still didn't think that would be enough tears for Draco.  Her heart broke for him; broke into a thousand pieces.

She hoped the towel would muffle her sobs and not disturb Draco.  She did not want to make him upset by showing her sadness.  Hermione decided then and there that she would only show a smiling face and say pleasant things in order to help him get well.  If he _was _able to get well.  The thought made her cry harder.

In the spare bedroom, Draco turned onto his right side and faced the open door.  He could hear the water running in the bathroom, and underneath that, the sound of crying.  _Hermione_ was crying.  Tears slipped down his cheeks as his eyes fluttered closed.  "Oh, Hermione," he whispered.


	6. Chapter Five

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:  **If this were mine, I'd be Mrs. Orlando Bloom.  Sadly, I'm not.  Draw your own conclusions.

Chapter Five 

After falling into an uneasy sleep, Hermione was awakened later that night by the sounds of struggling, and then, to her surprise, yells of terror.  She sat up quickly, all vestiges of sleep suddenly gone.  Her mind registered that Draco was in the spare bedroom, and that he needed help.  She ran into the spare bedroom and saw Draco, tangled in the blankets, his legs and arms flailing wildly.  Though his yells were unintelligible, it was clear he was very frightened.

Once again, Hermione wondered why she, of all people, had been appointed the task of healing a damaged soul.  She wasn't certain that she could, having had seen so much horror of her own.  Did that even equate, fighting in a large-scale war against an evil wizard, and watching one's parents die?

But she remembered her earlier resolution to help Draco in any way she could.  She was a Gryffindor, by Merlin, and all that courage would go to waste if she didn't even _try._

Hermione shook Draco's shoulder and called his name.  Almost instantly, he calmed.  After a moment, he opened his eyes and focused on her face.

"Is that really you?"  His voice was small and trembled a bit.  "I thought I was having another dream when you found me."  He sat up as he spoke, and his eyes grew large and swam with tears.  "You are _real,_ aren't you, Hermione?" he whispered, urgently.

Sitting on the bed next to Draco, Hermione could only nod.  It seemed that the sudden lump in her throat prevented her from speaking.  They stared at each other for a few minutes, and then she found her voice.  "Are you all right?"

_Smooth, Hermione.  Ask him a question that you already know the answer to.  Your first opportunity to talk to him in _years_, and you completely blow it._  Hermione was beginning to think that she was going a little batty.  Her mind had been quite against her lately.  Not a good sign.

Thankfully, Draco didn't notice her mental ramblings.  He gave her a wry grin.  "Honestly, no.  Not a bit all right.  In fact, downright bad."  He looked down at his hands, which had been twisting in his lap, then back up at her.  "You?"

"I could be better," she said with a little nervous laugh.  "But I meant just now.  You were yelling in your sleep."  Hermione reached over and stilled his twisting hands with one of her own.  "Can I help?"

Draco heaved a huge sigh and met her eyes.  "Will you stay with me?  I don't like to be alone."  Hermione must have looked like she was going to refuse, because he added, "Please?"

So that was how Hermione Granger ended up in bed with Draco Malfoy.  They lay on their sides, facing each other.  Draco pulled Hermione close and rested his hand at her nape, cradling her head.  She snuggled against him briefly, and then settled.  In the fleeting moments before sleep, both had the same thought: _We fit together perfectly._

**********

The next morning, Hermione awoke feeling Draco's warm arms wrapped around her.  She reveled in how content it made her feel, and then carefully extracted herself.  It just wouldn't do to let Draco wake up with her there; it might unsettle him.  That, and the fact that if she got _too _comfortable, she'd want to stay there all day.  _Or forever,_ her rebellious mind put in helpfully.

Shuffling out into the kitchen, Hermione yawned and glanced at the wall calendar.  She idly wondered how many days until Saturday, and then stopped, eyes wide.  Clearly marked on a square labeled "Tuesday," were the letters "H/R," indicating a scheduled breakfast with Harry and Ron.

Bloody, buggering, sodding, _hell._

Today was Tuesday.

And, unless she had read the clock wrong, they would be arriving in fifteen minutes.

Draco was in her spare bedroom.  Asleep.  In Ron's clothes.

Oh, _shit._

Hermione ran around her flat in a frenzy, tidying things that were already tidy, picking objects up and setting them down again in the same place.  All the while, she muttered, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit!"_

Draco, awakened by her panicking, watched her from the doorway of the spare bedroom.  An amused smile touched his lips as he tried to get her attention.  He began, "Her –" as she made one pass by the door, "Herm – " as she made another.  Finally, he caught her arm and stilled her frantic pacing.  "Hermione.  First of all, why did you leave?  And second, what in Merlin's name is going on?"

Her wild eyes met his confused face.  She chose to ignore the first question in light of the bigger crisis.  "Harry and Ron are coming over," she began breathlessly, "And you're here, and I don't know what they'll do, and you're wearing Ron's sweats, and – "

"And what?  Floo them and tell them not to come round today.  Or tell them I'm here, but I have some horrible, contagious disease – like heterosexuality – and if they're around me too long, they'll catch it.

"And what do you mean, 'I'm wearing Ron's sweats'?"  He wrinkled his nose.  "Did he _sweat_ in these clothes?"  He held up a hand, shaking his head.  "No, no, don't tell me.  I'm too traumatized as it is."

Hermione laughed, nervous and high-pitched.  "I just don't want anyone to know I've found you yet.  I'm afraid they'll –"

"What?  Lock me in a padded room, show me inkblots, ask me strange questions, like, 'Do you have a fondness for shrubbery?' and from that conclude that I have an unnatural fixation on either my Mum or my arse?"  Draco laughed and shook his head.  "Not bloody likely."

"No, but they will ask you lots of questions and subject you to hundreds of tests," answered Hermione, her smile fading.  "I just want to keep you safe, that's all."

"I see.  And now that Potter and Weasley are coming over, the secret will be out," he concluded.  At Hermione's nod, he added, "Well then, it seems I have no choice.  I'll hide in here, and they'll never know."  Draco went into the spare bedroom and closed the door.

Hermione felt guilty, hiding Draco like that, but she felt it was the only way.  Harry and Ron didn't always see things from both sides, and they wouldn't understand Hermione's desire to help Draco heal before thrusting him back into society and allowing him to be subjected to the grueling interrogation she was certain the Ministry would give.  No, they would only see Draco as a witness to a crime, and not a victim.  Hermione's first priority was protecting Draco and keeping him safe, and no one, not even her best friends, would stand in her way.  She knew it would require some spectacular lying, but she was ready.

She heard two distinctive _crack_s of Apparation.  Ron and Harry had arrived.

_Let the show begin, _thought Hermione grimly.


	7. Chapter Six

**Title:  **I Believe In You

**Author:  **YummySushiToo  (sushi3579@yahoo.com)

**Summary:  **In which Hermione receives a terrible shock, and Draco is put back together again.  Includes shrieking, blushing, dancing, and lame joke telling.

**Disclaimer:**  I don't like to repeat myself.  Not mine.  NOT MINE.  Look, you made me go all capslocky.

**Author's Note:**  A big fat "Thank-You" to all of you who have reviewed so far.  Lurrve you guys!  Also, I changed the rating in the last chapter because, as it turns out, our Hermione is big on the cussing.

Chapter Six 

Draco closed the door to the spare bedroom and briefly leaned against it.  He felt frustrated, both at Hermione, and with himself.  But mostly at Hermione.  Why should she _hide_ him, like some dirty little secret?  Was she ashamed of him?  _She had certainly seemed eager to leave this morning, _a voice, curiously like Lucius, told him.  _She is embarrassed of you, Draco.  As everyone is.  As I _always_ was._

"Stop it," Draco whispered, pressing his fingertips to his temples.  "Go away, please."

_As you wish, _the voice said.  _But I'll be back.  You know I will be._

Groaning, Draco sank onto the bed and burrowed under the covers.  His self-frustration came back upon him in waves.  Last night, his recurring nightmare had been terrible.  But Hermione, with her soft, soothing voice and warm, comforting scent, had driven away all of those bad feelings.  He had slept soundly, and his father's voice hadn't invaded his thoughts.  Until just now, anyway.

Merlin, he had been so relieved when Hermione found him.  He had been delirious with hunger and cold, and the voices in his head had not left him alone.  They had been attacking him, and each other, with a vengeance.  Truth be told, all he remembered was the sound of Hermione's voice and her gentle touch.

Wait.  Her gentle touch?

He was clean, which meant only one thing: Hermione had given him a bath.  She had seen him _starkers.  _His face grew warm with embarrassment.  No wonder she couldn't quite look him in the eye.  

Draco felt, for the sake of his self-esteem, that he ought to casually remind Hermione that he _had _been _very_ cold last night.  Just in case.

Voices filtered through from the kitchen.  _Murmur, murmur, murmur.  Murmur, murmur, murmur.  _Harry's tenor, then Ron's deeper baritone.  They seemed to be teasing Hermione about something, because Draco kept hearing her say, "_Honestly!_"  The voices were indistinct, but he knew that word very well.

Really, Hermione needed a new catchphrase.

He crept to the door and opened it, just a crack.

_Murmur, murmur, murmur_ " - and I told him, I said, 'You call _that _a wand?  Look at _this_!'"  Draco rolled his eyes as Potter laughed at his own joke.

"Harry, that's _disgusting!_" Hermione admonished.  Draco could picture her: shaking her head, mouth set in a slight frown.

Weasley added, "Yeah, Harry.  Disgusting."  It was slightly muffled.  _Probably spitting crumbs at Hermione,_ thought Draco.

Some time went by in which Draco could hear sounds of eating and drinking, punctuated by spoons clinking on china and the teakettle whistling.  Finally, Weasley broke the silence.  "What's different around here, Hermione?

A beat, then two.  "What are you on about, Ron?"  Hermione sounded nervous, even from the spare bedroom.

"I mean, something's not right.  Something's off."  _Perceptive, Weasley, _thought Draco.  _Did you come up with that all by yourself?_

"Ron's right, Hermione.  Something's off," Potter repeated.  _Obviously not._

"You two are being paranoid.  Nothing is different."  Draco heard a chair being pushed back, probably Hermione's, and someone moving around the kitchen.  "Stop trying to practice your Auror training on me.  I'll thwap you."

Oddly enough, when Potter and Weasley laughed together, they sounded exactly like Crabbe and Goyle did.  "All right.  Back off, tiger," said Potter, still laughing.

_Tiger?  _Tiger?  _How do I hate thee, Potter?  Let me count the ways.  _Draco was outraged solely for Hermione's sake.  Really.

The three continued eating and talking for a little while longer.  Actually, Potter and Weasley talked, and Hermione punctuated the conversation with such _bon mots _as, "Uh-huh," "Really?" and Draco's personal favorite, "Mmm-hmm."  For his part, Draco tuned out Potter and Weasley's voices.

Finally, it sounded as though the two were about to leave.  "I'll just use the loo, then," said Weasley.

"No!  You can't!" Hermione said, loudly.

Weasley sounded suspicious as he asked, "Why not, Hermione?"

Hermione hesitated, then said, "Because it's broken, that's why."  

_Dammit, Hermione, you hesitated _too_ long,_ thought Draco.

"Well, maybe I can fix it," offered Weasley. 

 _Shocker!  He has basic plumbing skills.  I bet his mum is so proud._

"I don't know, Ron," Hermione said, following him down the hall.

_Quick, Hermione!  Cut that gangly git off at the pass!_

Draco closed the door softly, thinking no one would notice.  Unfortunately, the Gods of Really Bad Luck were working full force today, and Potter saw the door move.

"Who's here, Hermione?" asked Potter, stopping dead center in front of the door.  Weasley also stopped, and Draco heard him turn round.  "Hermione?" prompted Potter.

Draco became very still.  _Please, don't let Hermione do something stupid,_ he prayed.

Hermione did something stupid.  "Last night I found Draco Malfoy.  I brought him home, cleaned him up, and let him sleep in my spare bedroom.  He's in there, right now, and he's wearing Ron's clothes," she said, all in a rush.

_Bloody.  Hell.  _

"What's he wearing my clothes for?" Weasley yelled.

At the very same time, Potter shrieked, "Malfoy's here?  Right now?  What were you thinking?"  And he shoved open the bedroom door, causing Draco to fall and land sprawled on the floor.

A moment of shocked silence passed.  Draco wondered if he had actually heard Harry Potter _shriek_, while he looked between Hermione's apologetic face, Weasley's disgusted expression, and Potter's outrage.  He blinked, inhaled shortly, and said, "Hello, Potter, Weasley.  I trust you had a pleasant breakfast?"


End file.
